


Illicit Affairs

by EIectricScarIet



Category: X-Men (Movieverse)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Alternate universe - Mafia, BDSM, Bondage and Discipline, Bottom Charles, Charles Is a Big Dorkface, Dom/sub, Fluff, M/M, Mafioso Erik, Orgasm Denial, Protective Erik, Smut, Thief Charles, Top Erik
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-02-08
Updated: 2017-02-08
Packaged: 2018-09-22 21:27:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,827
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9625991
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EIectricScarIet/pseuds/EIectricScarIet
Summary: "You chose the wrong man to rob."Charles Xavier, a thief just trying to make ends meet, accidentally attempts to steal from a high-ranking member of the mafia. Things rapidly spiral out of control and within days, he finds himself deep in mafia business with a developing crush on the dangerous man he tried to steal from.





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is just the prologue, so of course this'll be a lot shorter than what usual chapters will be.

People always used to tell him that he was lucky to live in such a prosperous city. New York. Where people came to make their dreams a reality; whether that be becoming a movie star, or finding true love, or anything else one could dream to do.

When Charles was young, he firstly wanted to be a writer. The idea of sharing the stories from his mind with the rest of the world was astounding and beautiful. But then when he grew old enough to understand the world better, he wanted to become a psychologist; after all, he did have a way with people's minds. Then when he graduated high school, he decided once and for all to become a genetics professor.

Of course, this was all before his stepfather put Charles's late father's company into bankruptcy and left them in debt.

Things fell apart from there. Charles's mother passed away (she had been ill for a long time, but the financial situation just tore her apart), and his stepfather fled along with his biological son. Which left Charles, only 18, to care for his poor adopted sister Raven. He had to pay for his school fees, his college fees, rent, bills, and for her to see a psychologist on top of all of that. It just wasn't enough. No one would accept him without any qualifications, and he couldn't even get into university to earn himself a degree.

So... he had to turn to a life of crime.

And it was just his luck that one fateful day, two weeks before he turned 24, he unknowingly chose the wrong person to pickpocket. 

**-**

The town center was just buzzing that day, despite the downright miserable weather. Raven was at school, so as per routine, Charles would swing by a crowded area in the city after walking her to school with his small duffel bag and pick the pockets of unsuspecting rich people.

He hated it, to be quite frank. He hated the fact that he was taking from innocent people. What if he took from someone who was just as in need as him, and he didn't know? All he had to judge was just his eye, and he knew very well that looks could be deceiving.

And he was about to find out just how deceiving they were.

His eyes scanned the crowd. He could feel his hands quivering, as they always did. No matter how skilled he was after almost 6 years, he was still petrified. 

His eyes locked on his first target. A slender woman with long, curly black hair. She was dressed elegantly, so he assumed she'd have something nice and pricey on her. He slunk closer to her, weaving his way expertly through the crowd. He crept up beside her, and as he was pressed into her by the swarm of people, his slender hand dipped into her handbag. Within moments his finger closed around what felt like a watch. He lifted his hand out again and without looking at it, he made his way to the other side of the throng.

Now that he had a moment to breathe, he opened his hand and peered at the watch. _Shit. Just an average quality watch._ He sighed to himself. Guess he had to try again. 

He turned back, scanning the crowd once more. His gaze landed upon a man. Tall, striking, dangerous. He saw how his grey eyes darted around the crowd, narrowed and menacing. Charles's stomach fluttered. He had to take risks every time his hand went into someone's pocket. This was just the same thing, right?

It took only a few well-placed steps to walk up beside the man. He was carrying a small black bag that surely had money in it, if not other valuable items. His hand slipped into the bag, and he felt around gently.

Nothing.

His stomach fluttered a little more.

On attempting to remove his hand subtly, someone to his left bumped him and he lost his footing. He stumbled straight into the man he had just tried to pickpocket, and immediately he knew he would be caught. In a last ditch attempt, he ripped his hand out and it fell to his side. Perhaps the man wouldn't connect the dots.

Charles hesitantly looked up and met those grey eyes he'd been fearing, and his suspicions were confirmed.

_Oh no._

Within moments he was being forcefully shoved out of the crowd towards a nearby alley. The man's hands were clamping tightly on his shoulders, and he tried his best to struggle against the force but it was no use.

As soon as they were out of eye shot of the crowd, the man roughly pushed him up against the wall, his hands moving to grip him by his collar. By God, he was furious. Many terrified thoughts were flying through Charles's mind, but the loudest was 'am I going to die here?'

He dared meet the man's burning gaze, and instantly he felt tears come to his eyes. This was definitely a mistake. He made a terrible, terrible mistake.

"You chose the wrong man to rob."

Then there was pain, and blackness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks for reading! I'll try to have the next chapter up by the end of the week. much love!


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oh dear. I was planning on making this chapter a lot longer, but both my phone and my laptop have run into some technical difficulties and this is all I had done. hope it suffices!

When his consciousness returned to him, the first thing he noticed was an unbearable pain in his head. Specifically, in the back of his head. He figured the man had slammed him against the wall and knocked him out cold. He didn't really care about that; he was just happy he was alive.

The second thing he noticed was his hands and feet. They were bound to something hard and wooden. Most likely a chair, given his situation. It wasn't like he would've put up much of a fight anyway, so he figured it didn't make too much of a difference to the confrontation that was surely to come.

As he opened his eyes and the ringing in his ears cleared, he noticed the third thing. Voices. An argument. Right in front of him.

His vision cleared up after a few blinks, and he immediately recognised the man from earlier. He was arguing with a woman who wore so much glittery white things that he had to look away for a moment before properly focusing on her. She was beautiful, but not really his type as she was a woman. Long, platinum white hair and delicate features. He had no doubt she'd make someone very happy one day.

Upon the involuntary grimace and groan given by Charles upon his awakening, their argument was halted and they both turned to face him. "Ah, look who's finally back to the land of the living, no thanks to you." The woman sent a venomous glare towards the man and took a step towards Charles, hunkering down to bring her eyes to his level. "Good afternoon."

He attempted to speak, but his voice manifested in a hoarse mumble.

"Dear God, Erik, look what you did to the poor boy." She tutted and stood back up.

 _Erik. Nice name._ He mused numbly. Erik huffed and began pacing the room.

"We can't keep him here, God dammit! It's-"

"We need him! You've got to stop only thinking about yourself, idiot! Start thinking about the family instead of what you and only you can gain!" Emma asserted before turning back to Charles. "How rude of me. My name is Emma, welcome to our headquarters. I apologise for the fashion in which we brought you in, we have Erik here to thank for that." With those words, she glared at him again. He returned it with more venom.

"My sister..." Charles muttered. "My sister. I was meant to get her from school..."

"Fucking hell." Erik exclaimed, throwing his hands in the air. "Just kill the boy. He's-"

 _Kill me?_ Charles felt a cold shiver run down his spine. "No, no, no, my sister, she's only 16, I can't leave her. We have no money, please don't-"

"Just stop talking, Erik. You've scared him." Emma knelt beside Charles once more and placed her hand gently on his knee. 

"I am not a part of a fuckin' daycare, and neither are you!" Erik stopped pacing to shoot daggers at both Emma and Charles.

"Shut up." She silenced him with a few words. "I'll call Shaw in here, and you know I'll do it." There was no retaliation. "Now that Erik has kindly shut his mouth, what's your name, sugar?"

"Charles." He answered, almost shaking in his skin. He had never been more afraid of anything in his life; even when his stepfather and stepbrother went through their violent phase after his mother passed away. "Please don't kill me. At least take care of my sister for me if you do."

"Your life is not in danger, no matter how bad things may seem right now. Well... Hmm." She hesitated, and Charles felt his heart pound faster. _What does she mean by that?_ "Just do what we tell you, and you can go free with a lot of money and your life." 

"What would you ask of me?" He was still wary, yet his shoulders slackened a little. He was willing to do just about anything for that price.

"A rival group took something from us. While we... settle things with them, we need you to take it back. Sound good?" Emma's hand still hadn't left his knee.

"God, this is ridiculous." Erik muttered before turning and storming out of the room, letting the heavy steel door slam behind him.

"He is such a handful, can you tell?" She gave a chuckle. 

"Before I agree to this... request of yours," he asked cautiously. "Where am I?"

"You're inside the headquarters of the Brotherhood." Emma said, her voice and expression blithe.

 _The Brotherhood!_ "You mean... the mafia group?" Charles's jaw fell. He had robbed a fucking mafia member? God, he was an absolute fool.

"I sure do. Erik and I were undercover yesterday, trying to get leads on this missing item of ours, when you so eloquently tried to steal from him. Luckily for you, I was there. If I hadn't been, well, we wouldn't be having this conversation. Erik isn't a big fan of people like you."

"You mean pickpockets?"

"Thieves."

"... Okay." Charles was barely able to comprehend anything that had just occurred with that pounding headache of his. "If I do agree-"

"You don't really have a choice."

"Regardless," he inhaled deeply. "I need to be with my sister. She's young and we don't live with anyone else."

"Well, it's kind of against protocol to bring anyone who isn't either an ally or a prisoner in here. So..." She gave a shrug and apologetic glance.

"Please. She won't survive by herself. We need each other." He was growing desperate. He would try to fight his way out of here if it meant that he could go back to Raven.

"I suppose I can see if she can come live here. If she can't, we'll get someone to go take her to school, bring her home and provide her with food until you're free to go." Emma sighed. "I have a soft spot for children, so you're lucky. If you were dealing with anyone else here, it'd be a flat out no."

"Thank you. Truly." Emma was quickly becoming his favourite out of the two he'd met so far. "I suppose I have to do this for you then."

"Yes, you do. I'll untie you and have Azazel show you to your quarters." Emma stood and pulled out a pocket knife (he had no clue where she kept it under all that white fluff). She stood behind him and effortlessly sawed through the ropes that bound Charles's hands to the chair. Once his hands were free, she cut the ropes binding his legs and moved to his side. "Are you steady enough to walk? I know he can pack quite the wallop."

"I think I'll be okay. Thank you." Charles shakily pulled himself to his feet. Emma gave a short, sharp whistle and within the next few moments, a man covered in red tattoos with unruly black hair entered the room.

"Take young Charles here to Darwin's old room." She instructed. With a nod, he stepped forward and beckoned Charles towards him.

"Come." His voice was laced with a thick Russian accent. Charles followed Azazel through the dark corridors. Every single door looked the same; heavy, steel doors which locked from the outside. He almost walked straight into the Russian man when he stopped in front of a particular door. 

"Here is where you will stay." Azazel unlocked the door and pushed it open, stepping aside to allow Charles to enter. Hesitantly, he walked into the surprisingly cozy looking room. When he turned back to thank Azazel, the door was shut in his face and he heard the telltale click of it being locked.

"Lovely." He murmured to himself. He turned back to survey the room. It was small, and both the floor and walls were black. There was a double bed taking up most of the space, and a bookshelf and desk along the right hand wall. At least he had something to do to pass the time while he was locked in there.

Now that he was finally alone, his mind had a moment to breathe. He flopped down onto the bed, a sigh leaving his body as he did so. Within a matter of hours, a misguided robbery had led him head first into dangerous business he had no interest in being involved in. His head and heart hurt. Things had changed so rapidly that even a life of picking pockets and selling things on the black market seemed like a safe haven.

He wondered if Raven was okay. The clock hanging on the wall told him that it was approximately 3:20. She would've been terrified since he hadn't shown up to get her from school.

An angry yell and the sound of a door slamming tore him from his melancholic rumination. He sat bolt upright, listening as more yelling continued. It sounded like Erik and someone else were shouting at each other. He had always hated yelling, ever since his childhood. His stepfather always used to yell, and he had learned to despise it over the years. Someone did so much as raise their voice, and Charles would immediately shrink. How pathetic.

Suddenly, the yelling stopped. He waited, listening with bated breath, when suddenly the door was forcefully unlocked and thrown open without much struggle.

It was Erik, looking moderately pissed off. "I am to be your mentor during your time here." He practically growled, glaring at Charles with narrowed eyes. He turned to shut the door and leave once more when Charles sprung to his feet.

"No, wait!" He exclaimed. Erik stopped in his tracks and returned his gaze to Charles's.

"I am so sorry for trying to pickpocket you. Truly, I am." Tentatively he took a step forward. "I'd like us to interact normally during my time here, rather than every encounter being an awkward and possibly angry affair. Is that possible?"

It took a few moments for his words to register in Erik's mind, his eyes turning from confused to neutral and back to mildly pissed off. "Whatever." He said, pushing the door shut with less force than Charles had expected.

 _Well. That went sort of okay._ He sat back down on the bed, cradling his head in his hands. God, this was such a mess. Who would've known that such a little mistake would lead to such a terrible situation?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you for reading! please leave a review, I'd love to hear what you think so far. have a wonderful day/night, much love!


	3. just a candid author's note.

hi everyone.

this author's note will be posted to every single ongoing fanfic I have, so if you're following any of my other fics you'll see it there too.

I'm just going to have to be honest here, since I can't really keep lying and saying I just "lost my muse" or something.

for a while, I've been struggling with severe mental disorders which as of late have gotten so bad that I can no longer attend school for more than a few days at a time or go out in public without going through hell while I'm there. to be honest, it's getting really hard to create ANYTHING. I can't draw, I can't do my school work, and of course, I can't even write. every time I think I have some sort of muse, I pull up a word document and as soon as I look at it, it's like every word that I could've possibly put on the page has just disappeared from my mind. I can't create, full stop. so I'm sorry. I hope that at some point in the near future I will be have at least some control over my mind and what it does. until then, I hope you all continue to stay with me and hope for my recovery as much as I am.

much love, always.

scarlet.


End file.
